


Other King's Banner

by jeza_red



Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Gen, M/M, a bit of AU, a happier one, and now we're here, and while still not great, but happy, he was good enough to summon Berserker, let's say Kariya didn't run away from the family, not exactly great, on his own, then stuff happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2741762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeza_red/pseuds/jeza_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little happy home, where Sakura and Kariya finally get their happy life... with a few glitches and a warrior spirit thrown in, but still, they're trying. </p><p>He could be scary when he wanted to be.<br/>However, he much preferred being gentle.<br/>And with his Master, he could be nothing else, but that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sakura is twelve, Kariya is still sick, and the Holy Grail War didn't happen.

Father was in the kitchen, Sakura could tell by the smell of miso soup she detected as soon as she stepped through the front door. It was the only thing he could cook confidently, so it was the only thing he’s ever cooked for her whenever he's managed to wrestle the kitchen away from the servant the Family had hired for them. He could not stomach to present her with anything less than perfect, and Sakura already knew it was not necessarily the healthiest part of their relationship, but if it gave him any amount of joy…

She liked miso soup, anyway. And an afternoon without some steely-eyed, smooth-gestured spy trying to stare inconspicuously at their backs was a time well spent.

She hung her backpack by the stairs and let her school shoes join a neat row of by the wall. The sight of her bunny slippers always brought a smile to Sakura’s lips. The left one’s ear especially: it was flopping a bit more than the other one and there was a blue patch awkwardly covering a small hole. Her sister’s cat made said hole a couple of months ago, during one of the rare sleepovers Rin was allowed to invite Sakura to.  

Kariya was so unhappy about it, no matter how many times Sakura assured him that it’s alright, that the hole is tiny and she can fix it herself. She thought she has won that battle, only to come back from school later that day to see the patch in place and two small plasters on Kariya’s hands.

He was truly hopeless. But he always wanted to make her smile and that, in Sakura’s mind, was worth more than anything else. More than three hundred sleepovers at the house of her biological parents who could never quite manage to look her in the eye. More than being an heir to one of the oldest magi families in Japan.

“Hello, father,” she greeted, entering the kitchen, soft smile playing on her lips at the sight of an apron-clad man. But a moment later the smile fell off her face as Kariya, startled by the greeting, stumbled back and almost fell down.

“Father!” Sakura rushed to catch him ignoring the fact that she's ten years old and had no chance of holding up a grown man. “I’m sorry!”

“Sakura!” His smile was blinding when he looked down at her, clutching his waist, and there was no trace of anger. He was always happy to see her. “You’re home early,” he said, stroking her head. “Oh, your ribbon is askew…”

“And whose fault is that, you big klutz?” Sakura pretended to snap, as she backed away and fixed her ribbon. “I swear, one of these days you’ll hit your head on the stove or something…”

He laughed. He always did when she scolded him. Sakura thought it’s because, when she was trying to be angry it was the only time she was in any way similar to Rin, and it seemed to amuse everyone who knew them.

“Luckily, I always have you to catch me,” father retorted with an easy grin. “Go wash your hands, then, the soup is ready.”

Sakura did as told, holding her smile up all the way to the bathroom, where it once again slipped away. Father was weak today, she could tell. He was walking around in his yukata under the apron, meaning that he got out of bed late, probably just in time to prepare the soup. Which meant that he couldn’t get out earlier - Kariya was hard on himself and strived to be a good parent; if it was at all possible, he would be working or doing chores. And she could feel, - when she held onto his waist - the way his muscles quivered and spasmed for a moment before he caught his breath. It meant that he was in pain.

A bad day again, then.

Where was He, then? If it was that bad…

Sakura splashed some water on her face and wiped it harshly with a towel, trying to disguise her reddening and glossy eyes. Anger helped her find her equilibrium again, anger at Him, for being absent, for leaving father on his own in a room full of sharp utensils and hot plates!

It was unfair, she was aware of it, to be angry at Him, because if Kariya wanted to do something badly enough He could do nothing about it, but… but still!

“There you go, sit down.” Father put a bowl in front of her as soon as she sat down in a chair. He took the free one on the other side of the table with his own bowl. “Tell me about your day, eh Sakura? Was it fun at school today?”

It was boring, she already knew most of the things the teacher was talking about. It was uncomfortable, because she could tell that someone is following her again - they never stopped, it seemed, the Family always had an eye on her. But she supposed that it was to be expected and as long as they don’t take her away to live at the creepy Mansion, it was in everyone's best interests for her to ignore it. She never told father, but she was sure that He knows - as much as she was sure that if anything happened to her, He would tear the city apart to get her back. Somehow, it made keeping Kariya in the dark easier to bear.

School was not interesting and not really safe for her, but… but Rin was there, and Shiro was there, so at least it was fun.

“It was fun,” she answered after a beat. “Shirou fell asleep on his desk again and the teacher smacked him with a ruler.”

They talked about the small things, happy things, in between spoonfuls of noodles and soup. She wasn’t aware how hungry she was! The soup was really good this time around.

“Slow down, you hungry caterpillar!” Kariya laughed and went to get her a second helping. “You don’t want to get indigestion.”

“Kids don’t get indigestion!” She replied knowingly. “Only old people do.”

It did not escape Sakura’s attention that his bowl was still distressingly full. So, lack of appetite, too? Drats!

“Of course, how could I forget?” A full dish landed in front of her and a soft hand once again stroked her hair. “I’ll let you know that I’m not that old yet. Well, hm...” Kariya hummed in thought and caught a strand of his pale hair between two fingers. “You can get mistaken when looking at me, sure, but I am a man in the prime of my…”

Just then, as if to spite him, the coughing fit started.

Sakura didn't panic. She was used to it by now - and gods, did she hate that fact! - so she stayed on her place and pretended that everything was alright. Because father hated when anyone made a fuss around him. He hated seeing her worried about ‘just a cough’. So she obediently pretended it was ‘just a cough’… until Kariya swayed to the side and fell off the chair, crashing into the floor with a dull sound a bag of bones would make. Sakura’s teeth hurt just from that sound alone, her imagination rushed to present her with every bruise father’s pale skin just earned.

He was still coughing when she kneeled by his side and grabbed his right hand, trying to feel for a pulse. She was ten, she didn’t even know where to look for it, but He always looked for a pulse when it happened, so maybe there was some sort of magic to this, too. But father’s fingers were limp in her grasp, his hand heavy and cool to the touch, and in a rush of panic, Sakura lifted the eyelid over his left eye. It was not blue, rather that pale milky shade of grey she hated with passion!

“I’m...cough… alrigh...cough-cough...Sak’ra... go...cough… don w’rry...cough!”

Oh, he was such a hopeless case! To tell her not to worry at a moment like this, when he could barely breathe, as half of his body decided to randomly shut down!

“Where are you?!” She shouted, tightly gripping that limp hand, her words reverberating in the still air of the house. “Where is He, father?” She asked, more frantic as Kariya’s breathes turned gasping and shallow. “Call him! Call him now!”

“Sak...ra…”

“Where are you?!”

And suddenly, like a ghost appearing out of thin air, He was right there. Kneeling on the floor by her side, gathering father into his arms with the ease that always startled her. She knew it was so easy because He was insanely strong, but… but sometimes it looked like father is made out of tissue paper and with how thin he always was…

“Where have you been?!” Sakura raised her voice, suddenly angry, so, so angry! It was easier than being scared, so she didn’t try to stop the words that escaped her. “You’re supposed to keep an eye on him, you… you idiot!”

“Sak’re… lang’ge…” father’s weak gasp brought her back to being scared, even if His face didn’t twitch. It was always blank and serious, even when Kariya… his Master, was hanging like a lifeless doll in his arms, finally worn out enough to pass out.

“Go to your room, Miss Sakura, and get some rest.” His voice was like his face, cool and unbothered. A waterfall of dark hair hid his expression when He stood up, but she knew it was the same stony calm. “I will take care of Master Kariya.”

She wanted to argue that no, she wanted to go with them! She wanted to demand how could he even suggest that she leaves her father now, alone and sick! Rest? Good one! As if she could rest now!

She wanted to argue and push, and make Him stop being so stoic and allow her to follow…! Only, she didn’t.

Because He was always taking care of father, He always made him better. And the worst part was that it was only Him who could do that, who could heal that thin, gasping body and make Kariya well for the next couple of days. He was father’s healer and her bodyguard; He was the only reason that the Family was content to stay away for now and leave them to their own devices. She could not risk making their situation worse by disrespecting Him any further, by driving him away… if anything happened to Kariya, He would be gone. If anything happened to Him, Kariya would be gone. And then she would be back at the Mansion, and father’s sick body was enough to convince her that she didn't want to go there. Ever.

So she stepped back, head bowed, teeth clenched tight.

“I will clean the dishes,” she mumbled, trying to hide her glossy eyes from His cool ones.“Then I will go. You…” she swallowed before continuing. “You take care of him, you hear?”

“Of course, Miss Sakura. I will bring dinner to your room, if that’s acceptable?”

Sometimes she wanted to hate Him, for the fact that His sole existence was hurting the only adult person she loved for years now. But then she remembered that He was also a prisoner in this whole messed up situation and yet still managed to perform his role with surprising dedication and care. He was trying, so she couldn’t be mad at him for long.

“I don’t think I will be hungry,” she said to the Servant’s wide back. “Just… just stay with him.”

She would finish the soup, but only because father made it especially for her. And then she would wait for Him to come back and tell her it’s alright.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ay, this one is long and meandering, but I quite like Lance's pov... I imagine him to be so matter of fact and unbothered by most of the things. So cool*_*  
> Obviously, this is an Au where everything went a bit differently - the tainted Grail was discovered earlier, before the whole kerfuffle happened, and that put a stop to the whole thing... but the Servants were already summoned, so there was nothing than try to accommodate them into the timeline.  
> Also, in this timeline Kariya is a bit more intelligent than in the original one, even if he's as desperate to save Sakura as ever.

The bathtub in his Master’s home was big and it was about the only outright luxury the Master allowed himself to have. Kariya Matou was a simple man, of simple requirements, he didn't need much. The house was properly furnished only because of the girl living there; Berserker knew his Master well enough to understand that nothing was too expensive or too outlandish for his adopted child. It was amusing, in a pitiful way, because in this they were very similiar, him and his Master. They were perfectly happy to live in spartan conditions as long as their loved ones could have everything they would ever need.

Luckily, the Family provided (albeit grudgingly) for their future heiress, so there was no need for Berserker to put the fear of God into them. Again. It still amazed him sometimes how scary he  could be in this new incarnation.

However, he much preferred being gentle.

He gently rested the half-conscious man on the little bench and let him lean against the wall while he took a moment to turn the taps on. It always seems to take a moment too long.

Then gently he pulled the layers of fabric away from that thin, shivering body. Kariya tried to help him as much as he could: lifting his right hand, but not the left, moving his right leg to help with the underwear, but not the left that stayed limp and heavy, skin cold and muscles cramped. The last shred of cloth eased away, he gathered his Master again, lifting him over the rim and laying him in the warm water.

“I won’t… break…” Kariya said, smiling at him in that pale, tired way of his. “You can… stop… being so…”

The purple welts on his ribs begged to differ. The one on his hip was the biggest and looked especially painful, blood already gathering under the skin in uneven splashes of dark red and sickly violet.

“I would like you to take better care of yourself when I’m not present,” he allowed a note of calm reproach to enter his voice. “Sakura was scared for you."

He was a vassal, not a serf, his duty was to protect his Master - and scolding said Master was nothing more than an extension of said duty. Unlike the current Lancer, he was not made to follow anyone’s will blindly, he didn't crave attention and acceptance that much.

It was a stroke of luck then, that Berserker never imagined himself outright arguing with Kariya, - the man was simply too soft for that. He folded under every argument that made sense to him. The only thing that would make him plant his feet and stand his ground was his daughter’s safety, otherwise he was agreeable to a fault. And since Berserker’s own interests also laid in protecting the girl, there was really no reason he could see to ever raise the voice at his Master.

But chiding him like an unruly child? That was something he was starting to get used to, because it was distressing how little the man cared for himself.

“You could have broken something,” Berserker said, allowing his hands to hover for a moment over the bruises, trying to feel for the damage under the skin. He was not a healer, but a mage’s body was an open book for anyone who knew how to read the flow of the energy within it. And this particular body held no secrets from him, it was thin enough that he sometimes imagined that he can see through it. “And then we would have to use more energy to heal it than is wise."

Than your system can take - was the unspoken part.

"Or you could... let me heal... on my own. Like a normal... person."

"That is not an option. You walking around with an obvious injury will cast me in an extremely bad light in front of other Servants." Berserker answered calmly. "Not to mention, it would make your family wonder. And making them wonder is unwise."

And Kariya was not a wise man at all, so Berserker took the weight of making decisions on his own shoulders. And not just concerning battle either, - when the conflict was this covert, one had to change their strategy entirely.  

This was not a series of glorious battles he was used to. This was trying to survive under a decade-long siege where the enemy was crafty, insidious and, worst of all, patient.

But Berserker could be patient too and this was not the first siege he was forced to weather. At least here there was no Sir Kay trying to rush things and urging them to 'get off their assess and do something!' No. This time he was the one in charge and it was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

Well, objectively speaking, of course; there were few pleasant things in the lives his Master and his ward were living.

But it will get better. He has dedicated himself to making it so. If Kariya lets nim, that is.

"Please, take more care."

“I’m sorry…” The man muttered, staring forlornly at the water.

“You don’t have to apologise to me.”  He said with a gentler tone. There were a millennia old habits that even now he could not break out of. His fingers, hovering over the bruises, retreated. “I am not…” _I am not worthy._ “I am not the one in pain.”

It was easy to slip back into these old habits. Easy enough to be borderline humiliating.

He wasn’t a servant by birth and even now this pale man held Mastery over him only because Berserker has allowed it. He was born a noble and raised a knight, however un-knightly his conduct has been before his death. No matter how it had all ended, he’s always had pride in that at least, in his skill and his achievements… He was a good man, once, a paragon. Once.

With Arthur it always seemed easy to be so deferential, bowing head before his King was never a hardship. Arthur was strong willed and gracious, his strength was for all to see and the Knights all easily swayed under it.

Throughout the Grail Wars his Masters usually followed the same mould – more or less virtuous and honourable, of course, but it would seem that, in whatever configuration, he was usually summoned by the kind of people that were relatively easy to follow.

It just when the formula had been broken – just then Berserker realised how much he depended on it.

_When he's got Kariya._

He wasn’t exactly chosen by a new Master – he wasn’t even sure that the man knew ‘what’ he’s summoning. It almost felt to Berserker as if it was mostly his own decision to allow this human to call on him. Especially when his will so easily overrode the Mad Enhancement, it was clear that the summoning was performed with no real knowledge behind it. If an experienced mage did it, the sigils would be stronger and he would have no chance to escape with his mind intact.

Well, ‘intact’...

“I just can’t stay in bed all the time.” Kariya still wheezed a bit, but his breathing was becoming steady at last. He was still shivering, though and the left side of his body stayed pale in the warm water. “I have things to do, you know? And it’s… kind of humiliating to be treated like a sick child, at my age.”

“Not a child,” Berserker clarified. “But your body -“ _keeps failing_  “- is exhausted. It makes the Mana Transfer risky very time you wait until the last minute.”

At the reminder of the Transfer colour bloomed weakly on the man’s cheeks.

At least it wasn’t a full-body blush that Kariya experienced in the past, when their contract was still fresh and their plans barely a sketch in the sand. Another sign of inexperience - not only in the magi ways - that Berserker took in stride, because as charming as the stuttering and blushing could seem in any other circumstances… Well, almost four years later his Master was much better at accepting the deal and going through the motions of saving his own life. And Berserker could stop beating himself up for finding his reddening ears endearing - now, that Kariya stopped flinching from him in fear and trying to escape his touch without actually moving ( _as if he was conditioned not to and detested it... and didn’t that raise suspicions that the Servant didn’t wish to consider, since there was no Mad Enhancement to excuse his actions_ ).

“Will you be alright, if we do it now?” He asked mildly, raising on one knee by the bathtub and leaning a bit over the rim. Not too much, just enough to push the message across.

“Do you… need mana?” His Master’s face crumbled in embarrassed realisation. “How long has it been? I wasn’t… oh dammit, there was this project and I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”

“I still have some reserves left, do not worry. But I hate to see you in pain.”  

And it was a high time for a Transfer anyway. A week was as far as they've managed to stretch it so far. Still better than the beginnings, when every other day ended in a seizure or something equally unpleasant, because Kariya was stubborn and Berserker didn't know yet how far can be safely push his fragile Master.

Four years later and six days seemed like a happy medium for both of them, keeping the Servant strong and the Master healthier.

"Alright," the man nodded sagely. "Let's do it now. I have some paperwork to finish before tomorrow, so… alright."

It always amused Berserker how his Master steeled himself for it. Maybe he should feel insulted? He was neither vain nor stupid, but knew that he’s an attractive man. His physical appearance was one of the things he took care of, because it made life easier in many ways to gain favour this way. In his time ladies of the court were a viable well of information about comings and goings in their castles, and staying in their graces was simply a sensible thing to do. Even though in this world he couldn't present himself with the usual grandeur of rich robes and polished armour, he still collected admiring looks from many mortal eyes.

And since one such pair belonged to his Master, he had no reason to feel offended.

No, the deep breath and an attempt to forcefully relax his shoulders came from the fact that Kariya was a hopeless romantic and Berserker hardly resembled his one true love. For that he would have to lose at least two feet in height and over fifty pounds of flesh, and that was a sacrifice he was not prepared for.

Oh well, at least he could take pride in the fact that his technique was appreciated.

The kiss was the easiest way for the Transfer in their case, especially when his Master was also wounded. Kissing has never been a chore for him, he knew how to make it pleasant for both parties involved and readily used that skill. Especially, since making the prolonged contact impersonal and lifeless felt simply awkward. After some initial fumbling and a healthy dose of embarrassment they've reached a satisfying plateau.

Thankfully, Kariya was easy to please.

The key to a success with him was to start slow. Gentle. Allow him to close his eyes and get lost in the pleasant sensation. His lips were dry and chapped, probably because of the silly habit the man had of biting them when he was lost in thought or nervous. Not a lady's tender flesh, surely, but Berserker would be lying if he said he'd only ever kissed gentle ladies. There was something to be said for harsher textures from time to time.

Soon enough it stopped mattering, anyway, when his own lips tingled with a tell-tale taste of mana. A few more seconds, one deep breath, a slip of a tongue into the warmth of his Master’s lips… the shock almost made him flinch. An electrical-like current joined their systems, harsh and grasping, just on the bearable side of unpleasant. A sign that yes, they’ve waited too long this time.

But, God, how good it felt, how cool and refreshing. Like a man starved, he drank into it, greedily swallowing the power.

Only when he felt a whimper against his lips, he eased up enough that he didn’t crush his Master against the rim of the bathtub. Enhancement or a lack of it, he was still his class and some instincts were hard to discard. He soothed another quiet murmur with a gentle stroke down Kariya’s bruised ribs, before dropping his hand into the water completely. A moment of concentration was all it took for the whimpers to change into a deep, steady sigh.

It hurt, in the beginning, doing this. His own sub-material body was not created for this kind of use. He was supposed to consume his Master's mana, keep it, not release it again. His body fought with him in the beginning, trying to hold onto the energy fed to it. These days it was easy to redirect the mana back into the water, only a slight burn of his palm reminding him how unnatural it was.

They weren’t like Rider and his young Master with little to none mana to spare. Not even close to Archer and his unquenchable thirst for sustenance.

They were something of a paradox.

Kariya wasn’t short on mana, he had a _magnificent_ capability to produce it. Just not to process it. Since most of his magical circuits have been strained, torn or downright destroyed in the year-long process of ( _violating_ ) opening them, they were too weak to balance the give and take of the Contract. Even though the crest worms and all traces of their presence had long been removed, the scars remained, more so on the inside of his body than the outside. Because of that damage something didn't stick properly at the summoning and their link ended up incomplete.

Karia tensed minutely as the power in the water touched his skin and entered his system anew, filtered and weakened enough for him to use.

He’s had a Magi potential, but little in the way of official training. Berserker couldn't been happier about it, Matou magecraft was a twisted and cruel art. Kariya's choice to leave the Family had saved him from a life of torture, even if he was paying for it years later. He was learning, though, half from the books, half from his own instinct. Simple healing like that was an easy feat.

Berserker just had to carry on with his task.

Once his Master focused on the craft, his body was relaxing in ways more than one, and instinctive responses took over from the unease. The kisses were turning languid and wet, sometimes even a bit playful. No, sliding his tongue along the heat of another's, resting his hand on the healing skin of a thin hip and leaning in was no hardship at all. It was quite easy to get used to these soft sensations.

" _Mnh_ ," until there was a hand in his forearm and a small sound on his lips. Not urgent, but insistent. Then a gasp of air, when he moved back. “I think..." A shiver. "I think it's enough for now." Red ears and that endearing flush of colour on the cheek that finally lost its ashen hue. "I am as good as I will be." There was no bruises under his fingers so Berserker removed his hand. "And you? Are you... okay?"

He felt more than okay. Electricity still sparkled between his circuits, power so potent he wished for a moment that he was a still his own time, that he could go outside, saddle his steed and spend a day riding and hunting to get rid of the excess energy filling him. It would settle quickly enough, but for the next few hours he will feel like flying.

"Do you wish to bathe or do you require help in getting back to bed?" He worded the question carefully, closing all the possible exits before his Master.

"Oh no, not again! " Kariya, predictably, didn't waste time in trying to punch holes in them anyway. "I slept throughout most of the day! I didn't lie when I said I have work to do!"

Sadly, that was also the truth. Compromise was in order.

"Couch then," Berserker decided, standing up and reaching for the towels. "You can write on your portable machine and rest at the same time."

"I can hear a distinct lack of question mark at the end of this sentence," his Master's voice was almost sarcastic, under the layer of tiredness. "Are you going to bring me a hot water bottle and a bowl of porridge too?"

Kariya fiercely fought for his independence, something that his Servant always admired about the man. But when the independence threatened his wellbeing, there was no space for discussion.

He didn't possess Bedivere's level of battle politeness, but an unbreakable game face won him many a duel.

"I had hoped that you would agree to something more substantial than porridge. Some red meat would do you wonders." He redirected the conversation.

"I ate the steak." Kariya folded his hands defensively in front of his chest, trying and not succeeding in hiding his protruding ribs.

"Four days ago. You need to eat more, Master," Berserker put the towels in easy reach. "Carrots and toast will only sustain you for so long."

"I’m _trying_."

The man struggled to his feet, fingers clenched on the rim of the tub, and Berserker turned away, supposedly to reach for the bathrobe, and in truth to give his Master a measure of privacy. He has learned a lot about the modern take on the concept in the last four years.

"If I finish my work early today we can go to the park with Sakura." Kariya mused. "She probably got scared when I fell off the chair. Some fresh air would do us all good."

"If you wish, I will inform Miss Sakura about the change of plans."

"What change of _augh_...!"

That was the sound he was waiting on. The tub was big and Kariya was relatively short, clumsy and wet. A foot not clearing the rim happened more often than not.

" _Not a word!_ " The man mumbled into his chest. "Not _even_ a word. I am still going out."

"I am protesting for appearances sake," Berserker said, stifling amusement. His nice dress shirt was getting all wet, but he wasn't about to drop the shivering man to the floor. "Did you manage to damage yourself again?"

"No!"

So why won't you let me go and step back, he wanted to ask, but didn't. Holding his Master close like that was not unpleasant. If the man need time to catch his breath, he could take however much he needed with no fear of ridicule. Berserker just reached for a towel and draped it over the pale, scarred back.

"As for the change of plans. Today is Wednesday."

And Wednesday was a movie night, when the father and his adopted daughter sat in front of a TV watching old B movies and stuffing themselves full of sugar. Truly, a barbaric custom.

"Oh," Kariya mumbled into his shoulder next. "I could swear it's Tuesday... Oh well, no reason we can't go to the cinema, then. There has to be something good they're playing."

"Should I arrange the tickets?"

"I am not a cripple, you know? My hands are both in working order, I can manage to order some tickets online."

"As you wish."

"Now," Kariya finally managed to pull the bathrobe on and patted his Servant's chest. "This is the attitude I like. As I wish, yes, it has a nice ring to it," he smiled, teasing clear on his face.

The Servant, however, wasn't about to be defeated in his own game. The Master sputtered when his hand was grasped and lifted higher where a pair of lips he knew all too well touched it in a kiss. "As my Master wishes." Berserker whispered against the soft palm.

The doors slammed behind the man with more force than it was strictly necessary. Berserker smirked. It never failed to amuse him that a full kiss on the lips never seemed to fluster his Master as much as an  innocent peck on the hand did.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, I am still working on this story chipping at it inch by inch...;D  
> Also, Gilgamesh is a thing in this plot now. Huh ;]

On Sakura’s eleventh birthday, Rin gave her a book and a handful of colourful gems on a string.

She’s made a big production out of it, too, all secret-like and covert. She pulled Sakura from the living room by the hand, when the rest of their friends were busy watching Shiro and Shinji fight it out on the gaming console the latter brought with him to the party.

They settled on the staircase, halfway up, - it was narrow, but Sakura had to admit it was a good vantage point in case someone walked in on them and their secrets.

“Here.” Rin looked proud of herself.

“Thank you,” and Sakura did all her best to look appropriately grateful. The gems were really pretty. “I will make them into a bracelet or a pendant.”

Her sister protested. “No, silly!” And sighed. “Don’t you know about gem magic?”

“No. Should I?”

Another sigh. “Of course, you should!  It’s Tohsaka signature magic!”

“But I’m Matou.” Sakura reminded and pretended not to see how Rin’s face fell at that. She peered at the stones in her hand, instead. “Matou magic is different, but father says that I’m a good student!” She smiled, trying to change the subject. “He is learning himself, too, and it’s difficult, but I can already scry a little and the other day I’ve managed to summon a familiar!”

“Father…” Rin made that strange face again, the one that looked like she just licked a lemon. But she shook herself out of it remarkably fast. “A familiar? What was it? How big? For how long?”

As the questions rained, both girls glanced towards the living room’s doorway. They could not help it, the amount of power in that one room almost made the air in the house sparkle.

Sakura blushed lightly. “Well, it was nothing like Him or Archer… but it was pretty, too. Like a ladybug, but bigger, it sat on my hand for a moment and then flew away.” She smiled, remembering the feeling of numerous tiny legs tickling her palm. “It was warm.”

The only thing that disappointed her was the way father paled at the sight of it, how he put a hand to his mouth and, with a muttered praise, left the room. Well, at least Berserker was appreciative of the little summon and assured her that Kariya will be fine.

“Augh, I wish we too had the affinity for summoning familiars!” Rin pouted, genuinely impressed. “I would summon the biggest cloud of mosquitoes and send them to bite the Royal Bum!”

Sakura giggled from behind her hands at the name her sister gave to the Heroic Spirit living in the Tohsaka residence. Well, periodically living. The Archer, as Sakura understood, came and went as he wished, driving their father spare with his lack of ‘proper’ manners and haughty attitude. Sakura quietly thought to herself that like called to like and that the Servant was worth his Master in this case. What she knew of her former family pointed to haughtiness as one of the defining characteristics. The Golden King - as she privately called him in her head - was not even remotely as bad as some of her former aunts.

And he was kind enough, when they’ve happened to cross ways a few times, treating her with the same sort of absent minded consideration one would treat a baby rabbit with. It was only when He came with her that Archer was losing his cool; snappy insults and fiery glares were akin to real weapons whenever Berserker crossed the gates of the mansion, as if his very presence was a personal affront to the golden being.

“ _Mad Dog_ ” Archer called Him once and she was close enough to hear. It had made Sakura angry at His behalf and for a moment she even considered kicking the golden spirit in the shin and running for it… Because He was the calmest, most level headed, handsomest… well, he was not _mad_ and not a _dog_ by any means!

But then He never took offense at the words thrown his way. He simply ignored them and went about his way. And it seemed to annoy Archer more than any outright reaction could. Sakura decided to take the page out of that book; her game face already was getting better.

Other than that, the Golden King was quite fascinating. His effortless power was hard to miss, just like his effortless grace, even though his clothes were strange from time to time.

Rin couldn't stand him, though. And he seemed to take pleasure in teasing her whenever the situation presented itself. Which, Sakura was ashamed to admit, was usually quite amusing.

“I don’t think that throwing insects at him is a good idea,” she pointed out. “You would kill them all this way.”

“I don't care!” Rin sniffed. “A few would bite him and that’s enough for me!”

“Why do you dislike him so much?”

For Sakura it was a strange notion. The Golden King was their father’s _Servant_ , a powerful being that was supposed to keep them safe. Her experience, of course, only revolved around the Berserker and his stoic behaviour that hid a steel core of caring and gentleness. Obviously, Archer’s character was different, but his function remained the same, he was their protector, antagonising him didn’t seem _smart_.

Even more surprising was the way Rin flushed and pressed her lips together, looking away for a moment, as if to make sure that they’re alone on the stairs and that no one will hear her.

“I saw him kiss father once,” she finally muttered. She stuck her tongue out, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Ugh, that’s something I will never forgive him! I still have nightmares about it!”

“Oh, that’s it?” Sakura shrugged, nonplussed. “Barserker kisses father too.” And she didn't see a problem with that, even if both men attempted to hide it from her. Probably thought she’s too young to see people kissing. Or father was embarrassed, because he was easy to embarrass.

That information, however, caused her sister’s eyes to bulge out. “He wha…?!” She gasped. “Oh, wait, you mean uncle,” and calmed down just as fast. And then made a gagging sound. “That’s gross!”

Well, that rubbed Sakura the wrong way. “It’s not!”

“How is it even… he’s a gross black cloud, does he even have lips?”

“Black…?” And now she was officially lost. Berserker was human, for sure! “Do you… see him like that?”

Rin blinked. “Do you see him different?”

“Of course. He is very handsome.” She blushed.

“But that’s impossi…” Rin cut herself off and smacked her hands together, spark of understanding lighting up her eyes. “Oh, it has to be a spell! Shiro!”

A voice from the living room answered almost immediately. “ _What?!_ ”

“Come here!”

Sakura was not at all fond of people screaming across her house, but she could forgive Rin, who was just like that. Loud and brash and free with her emotions. It was charming, and also made her a bit jealous, because she has never felt that she can allow herself the same freedom. Not that father or Him would try to stop her if she decided to be more expressive, not at all, but…, it was virtually impossible to be so in this house. With Kariya’s sunny optimism and calm nature, with Him and his stoicism, there was no need to even raise her voice. After she understood that father won’t die in front of her every time a cough shakes him, and she will not go to the Mansion as long as one of them breathes, her anger and fear have settled into a low hum in the back of her mind. Present, but muted and easy to ignore.

“What do you want, Rin?” Shiro’s carrot head peeked at them from the doorway. “I am twenty points from winning!”

“Shut up and answer my question!” The girl snapped. “What do you think of Sakura’s servant?”

“Eh?”

“Rin, he’s not my…”

“Is he handsome?”

Shiro looked at them both as if they’ve lost their minds, but in the end he quailed under Rin’s hard stare. Scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged and mumbled. “Ah yeah, your bodyguard dude? He’s cool, I guess.” Was that a blush on his face? “Looks like some sort of a model… why are you even asking me, anyway? Get lost, Rin!” And he was gone.

“Oh bummer! It has to be some sort of status effect… and it works on Magi, of course. Now I really want to see him!” The girl sulked. “Is he prettier than Archer?”

Sakura was tempted to say yes, to play it up a bit, but she was taught not to lie and so she shook her head. She had a feeling He would not appreciate being used to get a one up on her sister.  “He’s… different. Taller. And his hair is long and dark. He looks like…wait!” She ran to the father’s office and grabbed one of the magazines that Kariya had imported from abroad to polish his English. They were full of boring articles about boring things and adverts with handsome, fashionably dressed European men. All sharp-features, dignified expressions and close-fitting suits. “Like these ones. Father even got him a suit and all...”

“Now I’m even more jealous,” Rin grumbled, leafing through the mag. “Why do we get a prissy princess and you get a knight in shining armour?”

Sakura laughed, but something… ticked in her head. Like a sound a popping airbubble made, whispering across her brain. She kept it to herself, for reasons she didn’t yet understand. She didn't yet know that mages were a distrustful bunch and some things were best kept close to the chest. She giggled, instead, struck by a funny thought.

“Would you prefer a knight kissing father?”

The older girl blanched and looked at her in sheer disbelief. “I would not have _anyone_ kissing him, except mother! Ungh, Mana Transfer is so troublesome!”

“Mana Transfer?”

“Yeah, that’s what the kissing is for. When the Servant needs a lot of mana quickly, kissing is the best way to get it. But he didn’t have to do it!” She snapped, hands curled into fists, a vein of stress starting to show under the dark fringe. “He did to embarrass father, and in front of mother, too! It’s not like he doesn’t get enough energy as it is, he’s just greedy! Augh, I can’t stand this _asshole_!”

Oh, well, this was one way of looking at it, Sakura guessed.

“Rin-chan, it’s not a language your mother would find acceptable, I think.” Father’s amused voice suddenly cut into the triade.

Rin choked and flushed, caught red handed. She turned towards the kitchen, where the man stood in the doorway, for once dressed sharply under the flowery apron, his usual loose yukata swapped for black trousers, a cream button up shirt and a fitted vest. Sakura decided that it’s a good look for her father and already planned to bother him about dressing up more often.

“Uncle Kariya…”

“Now, I don't want you using this kind of language in my home, is that okay?”

“Yes, uncle.”

“Good.” He smiled, all transgressions instantly forgiven and forgotten. “The cake will be served in a few minutes, girls. Can you go and round up the rest to wash their hands, Rin? Sakura, help me with the candles, will you?”

“Yes, uncle.”

“Okay, father!”

“Uncle Kariya is worse than dad,” Sakura heard Rin grumble on her way to the living room. “Kill me with kindness, why not! Just like that bum, Kotomine.”

“Who’s Kotomine?” Sakura called after her sister.

“No one you want to meet, little pet.” A voice answered from behind her back, startling her badly. The Golden King chuckled at her fright, but his expression was more teasing than malicious. “Don’t fear, girl, this King will not harm you on the day of your celebration.”

“Ah… thank you,” she stuttered, bowing. She looked after Rin, but her sister already herded the rest of the guests to wash their hands. Sakura felt awkward under Archer’s offhanded scrutiny, paradoxical as it was, and would rather have someone with her to diffuse it.

She didn’t even know why the spirit showed up at her birthday party. At least he shed the gold armour in favour of close fitting trousers and a loose white tunic. If Berserker presented himself like a model from father’s European magazines, Archer reminded her of a J-rocker - impeccable, beautiful and covered in tasteful jewellery.

Sakura suspected that his presence was tied to Rin’s - maybe their father ordered him to guard his remaining daughter? Or maybe he was bored and got curious? He did spend a substantial amount of time staring at the video games, after all. But these were only hunches - for all the girl knew, Archer might have come just to annoy their Servant. Maybe that’s why _He_ stuck to father’s office, making himself scarce?

However, whatever was the reason, even in her young age Sakura felt that she’s being offered a honour not many received, and tried to appreciate it accordingly.

“Thank you for coming,” she spoke gently on the way to the kitchen, the man walking beside her. “It’s an honour to have you here, highness.”  

“Hm?” Golden eyebrows moved up. “Aren't you a smart little pet?” But he looked pleased, so it was a win. “Well then, I will concede that being present at your celebration is not a complete waste of time.”

Oh, was it a compliment? Sarcasm? She was not really good at sarcasm yet, not like Rin was. It was easier to accept it and go along with whatever the Golden King said.

“Sakura, candles are in the cupboard over the fridge,” father turned to them, the cake on the counter in front of him. “You can stand on a chair to get them… _oh_.”

“That is a poor excuse for a cake, hardly suitable for this special occasion, don’t you think?”

Ugh, if that wasn’t extremely rude! She really worked hard to make sure that the icing was evenly spread!

Father got over his surprise at the presence of the golden being that boldly stepped into his kitchen, making it instantly seem smaller and duller than it had any right to be. He smiled at Archer like he smiled at uncle Byakuya. Like he smiled at Rin’s father. Sakura disliked that smile in particular.

“I understand why you may think so,” Kariya said sheepishly. “Compared to the lavish dishes you’ve experienced in your time, surely, it looks like a work of a child. And, well, it is.” Then he turned to her. “Sakura, darling, please get the candles, I will wash the knife and get the plates.”

Both Matous worked wordlessly, sweating under the scrutiny of these bright eyes. Archer didn’t answer to Kariya’s careful admonishment, he stood in the doorway for a moment, as if trying to ascertain what’s taking place. When the chair Sakura dragged to the cupboard scraped on the floor especially loudly, he rolled his eyes and stepped in, taking it from her and putting it back.

“Tell me which one it is,” his voice had a cadence of a pleasant order.

Sakura, obediently, pointed at the row of the shelves over the fridge… and then squeaked a bit when she was grabbed under arms and her feet left the floor.

“Wait, that’s…!” Father’s protest was cut off by a hiss of pain. “ _Ack!_ ”

“Calm yourself, mongrel, before you do yourself even more harm,” Golden King admonished. “And you, girl, get what you need from there, I don’t have whole day.”

Half a minute later Sakura was back on the ground, a box of birthday candles in hand, politeness rooted into her bones bowing her head for her. “Thank you, highness.” And then she turned to father, who stood by the sink with his fingers under the running tap. “Father?”

“It’s nothing.” Of course he smiled at her, that’s why she reached for his hand to check for herself. “I nicked myself on the knife, don’t worry.”

“We need to put a plaster on it...”

A blink of an eye later, Sakura found the space she stood in occupied by a tall, suited form and herself squeezed between it and father - whose wounded hand was pulled away from her and inspected.

“You’re bleeding,” Berserker said simply, but the girl could swear that the floor shivered under her feet.

“Ah, the mad dog showed himself.” Archer smiled, but this time there was nothing happy about that smile. There was satisfaction and a sort of darkness in it, but no joy. It was the scary smile of Grandfather Zouken. “Took you long enough.”

But, Sakura realised, pressing herself closer to the Spirit, there was something strange about his expression. Something not right, Something… oh, she realised, Archer was looking _too low_. Berserker was taller than him - a giant, really, a head taller than Kariya at the very least - and no matter how Archer’s eyes kept rowing, he couldn’t quite meet the other’s sight.

Did this mean that he was like Rin, and couldn’t see His face too?

“You know, I think that’s quite enough,” father’s voice smoothly cut into the brewing conflict. “The house is full of children, and… could you let me go now, I’d like to put a plaster on it.” He looked up at Berserker.

Who said: “There’s no need.”

“Wait, wha… ack!”

And put the wounded palm into his mouth.

Sakura internally gagged. Blood was gross! But her reaction was a pale shade of father’s. His face got red and he spluttered, wide eyes glued to the place where his hand was being... licked? Sucked? Gross!

“That’s unsightly!” Archer hissed, taking a step back. “You’re hardly more than an animal!”

Sakura almost started panicking and calling for Rin when father sent her a look. It was the one she knew, the one they’ve perfected in the last few years.

It was the look that helped them weather many situations – starting with the unsettling meetings with father’s family, ending with less scary, but still vaguely unpleasant occasions where they’ve been forced to meet hers. Not to mention all these times Sakura was invited to Birthday parties and Kariya opted to go with her to check the environment for threats. They were not exactly good with crowds, Sakura knew, even if she wasn’t additionally hindered by the frailness of her body and the attention-magnets in the form of scars on her face. Not to mention, a two meter tall bodyguard who hovered over father’s shoulder like a particularly clingy, if exceptionally handsome, shadow.

For times like these, they’ve had a look, and it said without speaking “ _don’t_ ”, and “ _we’re the only sane people in this room, so don’t you dare panicking and leaving me alone_.”

So she took a deep breath and focused on the most mundane elements of the situation, just like Miss Haruno taught her class to do when faced with a complicated mathematical equation.

“I am sorry, your highness, but could you help me up once more, please?”

The Golden King was vain, and she understood it, but he wasn’t stupid, and she knew it too. Sakura banked on his good mood and his will to be gracious. She wasn’t disappointed this time. He lifted her up to the same cupboard and waited for her to remove a box out of it, before setting her back down. Much more careful and graceful than the first time around. Was he showing off before Berserker?

He was looking at them, she could feel that. At least He stopped licking father’s hand and relinquished the limb willingly when she brandished a plaster. Father gave Him a stinky look, though, he was probably as grossed out as any normal person would be.

Sakura was young and so the less than subtle game of wills in the room went way over her head.

“What is it, pet?” The King bent over her head to watch the application of the plaster carefully.

“A plaster.” Sakura answered, hiding her surprise at the question well. “They go on cuts and small wounds.”

“Hm, human fragility is so tedious.” He sniffed. ”Are they all so… gaudy?”

The one in question had a smiling animal faces printed on it that Sakura thought are rather cheerful and cute. Maybe the King didn't like cute things? He was so hard to please! She started to understand where Rin’s dislike of him came from.

“Why won’t you just heal the cut?” The King shook his head. “The way your birth family does? They never have the need for such half-measures.” His eyes, once more, stopped at Berserker. “You can take care of your Master, dog, can’t you?”

And, to Sakura’s and Kariya’s great surprise, the Servant - for the first time as they knew him - answered to the barb. “Why would I carelessly waste the power my Master shares with me for a thing so small? Vanity has never been much welcome in this house.”

His voice was somehow much deeper than usually, like it was coming through a tube, or something. Sakura, holding onto father’s hand, felt it stiffen in her grasp. She looked up and saw Kariya closing his eyes, as if something hurt him. Like he did when she called her familiar for the first time.

Both Spirits were ignoring them, locked into some sort of a staredown, and the pressure in the kitchen rose. The air became sweet and tingly on Sakura’s tongue, and she didn’t know what to do…

Until she heard a stampede running down the stairs.

Shiro rounded a corner and fell into the room like a runaway pony, only to stop at the sight that welcomed him. “Hey, is that the cake?” He called, pointing. “So much icing! Sweet! What flavour is it? Can I have the first piece?”

A fist appeared from behind the doorway and smacked him on the arm. “You’re such a simpleton!” The rest of Rin followed after her fist. “Sakura gets the first piece because it’s her Birthday party.” And then her sharp eyes zeroed in on the situation behind the boy, two Spirits in a lockdown and the plaster on Kariya’s hand. “What’s going on here? Archer?”

The rest of the guests she sent towards the living room with a wave of her hand, with a dignified ease Sakura was fiercely envious of.

“Hm? I was simply helping your sister with preparations,” the Servant shrugged and stepped away. “Why won’t you take command of your little wild entourage and attempt to do the same?”

Oh, Sakura could see Rin’s face getting red from where she stood and wanted to giggle at the sight. It would be a pretty nervous giggle, all in all, but it was funny.

“That may be actually not a bad idea,” father injected before a screaming match commenced. He pointed at the stack of paper plates and plastic cutlery on the counter next to him and smiled at the children. “Why won’t you two, Rin and Shiro, get the plates out while I cut the cake?”

“Sure, Mr Matou!” The boy grabbed the stack and ran away.

Rin was more dignified and, apparently, suspicious. “Archer, come with me.”

Sakura waited for everyone to leave the kitchen before she turned to Kariya, worry pulling the corners of her lips down.

“Father?”

“I need to rest for a moment.” When Berserker moved to follow, a raised hand stopped him. “Someone has to watch the kids. Please, stay, I’m all right on my own.”

As young as Sakura was, she could recognize that father wasn't okay. But she wasn't about to grass him up.

“Come on,” she took Berserker’s hand in hers and pulled him towards the waiting cake. “I can't cut it up on my own and I'm not allowed to play with matches. Can you light the candles for me?”

As much as both of them were stubborn, she didn't have the impeccable attitude to be trapped in. “Of course, Miss Sakura.”

She hoped that father will feel good enough to see her blowing out the eleven candles, but if he couldn't... that was also okay.

 

* * *

 

The cake tasted better than Sakura thought it would - doubtlessly, because of the magic touch Kariya seemed to possess when it came to confectionery. And to think that the man could hardly boil some rice without burning it, when he could produce a perfect Swiss buttercream at a drop of a hat. How was it even possible?

Sakura’s friends ate their fill and some even asked for seconds. Even the Golden King had a nibble - from Rin’s plate nonetheless! - and declared the cake palatable, if still requiring a dash of date honey. Sakura thanked for the praise and noted the ingredient in the back of her head for future reference.

Berserker was… quiet throughout the evening. A silent, pensive presence in the kitchen’s doorway, like a silent guardian unwilling to cross the threshold into the room that Archer’s presence seemed to command. Or maybe he didn’t want to step too far away from father’s bedroom? She wasn’t sure, but strived to let him be. There were other things to distract her, of course, the singing and the presents, and her friends. The house was rarely this loud and Sakura hoped that it’s not the reason for Kariya’s absence - that the noise didn’t cause another migraine.

Once or twice she thought she saw a small smile playing on Berserker’s face as he watched them playing, but it disappeared as soon as the man noticed her looking. The pensiveness was returning to his face and the furrow between his eyebrows was showing again.

Still, when the cake has been eaten and all the presents opened, the parents of the guests started knocking on the door to collect them. Berserker greeted each mother and retrieved each whining pup with perfect grace, letting it be known that Master Kariya had to retire early. The women, charmed by his pleasant, eh, - well, Sakura had to admit that _everything_ about Berserker was pleasant - didn’t ask questions.

Rin was the last one to go, as no one would be coming to get her. She had a Golden King at her side, she was as safe as one could be in Fuyuki.

“Happy Birthday, Sakura!” They’ve hugged one last time on the doorstep. “Grow big and strong, so we can both become the best magi in the world!”

“I will do my best!” Sakura promised with a little resolute nod.

And then she squealed a bit when a big, tanned hand landed on her head and tousled her hair. She wasn’t a puppy!

“You’re a most gracious host,” Golden King’s eyebrow was arched in that way that signaled his amusement. “Although still young in years. This King was sufficiently amused during your celebration.”

“Thank you, Your Highness!” She beamed at the god. It seemed appropriate, even if Rin snorted and sent her an exasperated look.

When they were finally left alone, Sakura busied herself with picking up the mess. Paper plates, cups, and plastic cutlery went into the bin, Berserker helped her load the few dirty dishes into the dishwasher. He picked up discarded decorations while she pulled out a clean plate and put on it the last piece of cake they've managed to save from Shiro’s ravenous appetite.

“That’s for father,” she said in response to His raised eyebrow. “He didn’t have a chance to try it yet. Can you give it to him?”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” He asked, guiding her gently towards father’s bedroom with a hand on her shoulder. “He’s awake.”

Indeed, he was when they entered the room - quite rudely, because Berserker didn't knock. Did Kariya feel them coming the same way He knew that his Master is awake? The whole Servant thing was still very confusing for her.

But father didn’t look as bad as she feared he would, his face was a bit pale and his hair was tousled when he sat up on the bed, but nothing more than that. He was out of his nice dress shirt, however, which Sakura mourned.

“Sakura…” Father said when she stepped close to the bed and carefully put the plate on the bedside table. He was obviously struggling for words, trying to apologise for his absence; she saw his hurried glance at the alarm clock. “I’m sorry…”

She hopped on the side of the bed and patted his knee. “Don’t worry,” she said. “It was all very loud and messy, father. Shiro was acting silly and Archer was very snooty.” They both pretended they didn’t hear the quiet snort from the doorway where Berserker chose to stay. “And I saved you some cake!”

“Thank you, Sakura.” Father petted her head and she giggled. People tended to do that a whole lot today. “I think that all the excitement just got to me… I promise that next year I will be present to see you blowing out the candles.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

 

* * *

 

The plate cleaned out, the girl was kissed on the forehead and happily marched upstairs to wash and change before going to bed. Berserker stayed behind in the bedroom of his Master.

“Do you want to eat dinner?” He asked.

Kariya shrugged, still looking worn, but now at least some colour returned to his face. “I just had a big piece of cake, I don't think I could squeeze even a bite more.”

“Are you going to turn in?” He was stalling, he was aware of it.

They both were.

“You know,“ Kariya looked at him in that curious kittenish way of his. “You aren’t really my servant.”

“I am aware.” Berserker‘s coyly raised eyebrow asked ‘and what of it?’

The man on the bed looked down, eying his pale, thin hands. “You are your own person, you know, autonomous and all… you can do whatever you want.”

“I want to make sure you’re tended to.”

“Oh.”

He could see the tips of his Master’s ears turn red and counted it as a victory. So he didn't mess up badly enough to turn the man away completely.

“I apologise for my conduct. It was forward of me.”

Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? The reason for that tensing of shoulders, for his Masrter’s breath catching when Berserker grasped his hand and drank his blood like a wild animal. What made his Master run from him and from his own child. That one stupid show of possessiveness - nothing less than staking his claim in front of another Servant. Showing Archer that this was his territory and everything here belonged to him.

But if course it wasn’t and it didn’t.

“No, I… I get it. Archer is… well, he takes after his Master, doesn't he?” Kariya chuckled. “I’m impressed how you can keep your head when he tries to push your buttons like that…”

Well, yes, Kariya didn’t spend a substantial part of his life in the company of sir Kay. “Still, I should not try to presume ownership over you.” But kept his head? Oh, gods, nothing stood further from the truth!

The next laugh that tore itself out of Kariya’s chest was grating; sickly and thin, unpleasant to listen to. “You’d be the first one.”

Was… was his Master thinking…? Was Kariya thinking that was the sort of relationship they had?

It was a chilling thought that doused his amusement like a bucket of ice cold water.

Kariya, always perceptive, has to notice the change in his Servant's demeanor, because his next move was to motion for Berserker to sit on the bed and, once he was close, gently wind his thin fingers around the strong wrist, expression pinched. “I’m not angry.” he said. “I should be the one to who should be apologising, for leaving you and Sakura to handle the whole party on your own. I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with Archer as I took time out to wallow in self-pity while I should be…”

These were all sensible things and on any other day Berserker would take the apology. But today was stressful to all of them. To stop the building speech, he decided to employ the best tool for the job of silencing his Master.

A kiss on the back of the hand never failed to work. To have the man speechless and staring, flushed up to his ears.   

“What… why do you keep doing this?” Kariya finally stammered out, taking his hand back, tucking it under the blankets.

Berserker smiled. “Maybe one day it will stop making you uncomfortable?”

“Me? How about you? Shouldn’t you be more used to kissing gentle ladies’ hands?”

Berserker startled and Kariya smiled awkwardly, looking like a boy caught redhanded.

Oh, that was interesting.

“I can read, you know?” The man admitted when confronted with a raised eyebrow of his Servant. “You’re not subtle enough to be inconspicuous with it.”

Of course, his Master was a learned man. However, there was more to his story than the simple myth of the Round Table revealed.

“Well, then I can only assume that some parts got lost in translation.” Lancelot allowed himself to feel just a little bit smug. “There was more to my life than gentle ladies.”

A knight, tall and handsome, and quite charming. Kay hated him, because their characters were too similar. They scruffed every other week with no clear victor ever emerging. Well, maybe because of the pointers Lancelot gave his lover, Kay’s weaknesses revealed between kisses in hopes of seeing the haughty boy brought back to earth on occasion.

There was also a bard, praised musician at Arthur’s court. A gentle man with soft palms and rough fingertips; a beautiful man with wheaten hair, easy smile and wistful eyes looking at then Lancelot with immense favour. Everyone loved him, and within good reason, for he was lovely. Until the illness stole first his voice and then the light from his eyes.

Lancelot was surprised when the memory came back to him. He forgot about him… for a long time. He forgot about his lovers before… her. Gwynevere wiped all of them from his memory, not because she was the best and loveliest of them, but because she was the symbol of his change. He felt ashamed remembering the Lancelot from the past, not thinking of the disservice he was doing to all his loves.

Maybe it was the high time to change that? Stop wallowing in the past and crack his heart open once more. He wasn’t a good father to his own son, true, but Sakura was such a darling child, he wanted to support Kariya in raising her. And Kariya himself was obviously affection-starved, even if he made so much effort to appear otherwise. He has been hurt, of course, shunned and tortured by the people that were supposed to care for and protect him, Lancelot could not change that sad fact. But…

He leaned in for a shallow kiss that was there and done before his Master even had a chance to startle. A little more than a peck, a spark of magic barely having a chance to jump between their lips.

“Oh,” the blush, was quick to appear on the pale cheeks. “Are you in need of more? Is it the time already…?”

“I don’t need mana,” Lancelot made sure to keep his voice gentle and his posture unthreatening when he leaned in again, stopping and inch and no less form his Master’s lips. “I’d rather have something else.”

He stopped there and waited. Waited for Kariya to understand, to inhale deeply in shock, to release the air slowly as he tried to calm his nerves and shore up his courage. Such a brave man, his Master. How could such frail body hold within itself such courageous spirit? So burdened and worn, but still willing. God, still willing.

He waited for the man to close the distance and when it finally happened, Lancelot breathed out his own sigh of relief. Gentle hands dropped to his shoulders and he covered them with his own to stop their shivering.

“I don’t really have much experience with men,” Kariya whispered, as if it was a secret. “And whatever I do have was… I’d rather not be reminded of it. But I’d like to try if you can be patient with me.”  

“I have nothing, but time.”

His skills were not a bit rusty, too, so Lancelot had no problem with going slow while he dusts them off. While he never saw much difference between romancing men compared to women, he looked for different things in sexual relations with them. As it was, Kariya stood somewhere in the middle ground of his tastes - where the ladies were lithe and gentle, and men tall and robust. He had to find a new approach for his Master, because even the most skittish of his lovers were never scarred in such visceral way.     

At the same time Kariya was trying to heal with the sheer force of will, treating him like he was breakable was only going to harm his self-esteem. But then again, the man was still self-conscious about his physical scars and didn’t enjoy being looked at…

A lot of hoops to jump through, but Berserker was tenacious by the sole grace of his class.

He laid Kariya on his side and rested behind him, arranging them both comfortably against the difference in heights. His Master was constantly getting sturdier, but was still rather petite, Berserker could easily fold him into his embrace and keep him there, safe and content. He rested one hand over the man’s thin hip, fingers slipping partially under the waistband of the boxer shorts, waiting for a permission to slip lower. The leg he wasn’t laying on he shifted up, in effect pushing Kariya’s thigh also, which created a perfect nook for his hardening cock to fit into. He murmured in approval when Kariya’s hands fell on his, fingers threading with his digits. He’d go only as far as he was allowed and made it clear.

He nuzzled into the pale hair on the side of Kariya’s head, pushing his lips to the back of his Master’s ear in a caress that had the man shivering against him with a breathy gasp.

“Is that acceptable?” He murmured against the soft, blush-warm skin.  

“Yeah… yes.” He didn’t even move his hands yet and Kariya already sounded winded. “G-go ahead.”

“As you wish, M’Lord.”

 

 

 


End file.
